


Swans

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4614918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You never kill a swan,” his father spoke gentle but firm near his ear, “do you know why?  Swans mate for life. One partner until they die.  It’s cruel to break them apart.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swans

**Author's Note:**

> It's short but I like this one a lot. Cross posting from my tumblr because I remembered I have an ao3 account and I should actually use it. I didn't proofread this one tho, sorry.
> 
> Fic based on [this headcanon.](http://krimsons.tumblr.com/post/125428559045/i-have-a-headcanon-that-when-nordics-were-little)

There was a certain briskness in the air that spoke of the oncoming winter. Little Denmark, already dressed in his fur lined boots and heavy cloak, gripped his bow close. Of all his brothers, he hated the cold the most.

His Papa paid no mind. He had warned him when they had set out that this would be a slow journey– they needed enough meat to dry and smoke and get through the coming months before the cold chased the best game into the farthest reaches of the forest.

“Papa, it’s cold.”

A short grunt.

“Papa, it’s REALLY cold.”

A longer sigh.

“Papa, it’s–”

“Told you before it would be, child.”

Denmark shrank back. He knew that tone meant his father was nearing the end of his patience for his antics, and he didn’t want to be sent back to his brothers in shame. Instead he looked towards the lake. His eyes widened.

There on the water was the biggest swan he had ever seen. Drifting quietly, head tucked under its wing, it seemed completely unaware of the passing hunters.

Denmark nocked an arrow and thought maybe this trip would be over sooner than he expected.

A heavy hand gripped his shoulder. He paused and looked up at the solemn line of Papa’s mouth, letting his bow slack to the ground. “Papa?”

His father shook his head and gestured at the lake. Another swan had appeared, floating gently alongside the first. They were still for a moment, then seemingly in tandem arched their necks and pressed their foreheads together. Little Denmark thought they were beautiful.

“You never kill a swan,” his father spoke gentle but firm near his ear, “do you know why? Swans mate for life. One partner until they die. It’s cruel to break them apart.”

Denmark’s voice was small, “What happens if you kill one?”

“The other one could find another mate. But I think it keeps its broken heart forever.”

Those last words tumbled round and round in his head as they walked on into the forest.

—

“Well would you look at that?” a grown Denmark stood at Norway’s window, bemused smile pulling lines at eyes older than his youthful face. “You’ve got a little sparrow nest in your birdhouse!”

Norway nodded. He leaned into the Dane’s side and played his fingers idly at his chest. “Last week they were building. Soon there’ll be chicks.”

“Hmm, what’s your favorite bird, Norge?” Denmark hummed, turning to brush his nose into soft hair.

“Puffins.”

Denmark snorted against his scalp. “Figures. Does Ice know you stalk him?” He sighed. “Hey, d'you know what my favorite bird is?”

“Flappy Bird. Because you’re an idiot.” He tapped at his chest.

Denmark’s laugh was warm and full. “Close, but no. Actually it’s a swan!” He launched into the old story, loud and animated as only he could be.

Norway closed his eyes and listened, remembering the strong figure of their old Papa, how little Den had always jumped at the chance to take care of his “brothers.” How adult Denmark still did. He tapped at his chest again before laying his palm flat over his heart. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

“You sentimental old fool.”


End file.
